


How Alec Feels About Dancing

by Bagell



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: #SaveShadowhunters, Alec Lightwood can dance, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Universe, Happy Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood, Introspection, M/M, Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood dancing, ish? kind of, please
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-03
Updated: 2018-08-03
Packaged: 2019-06-20 23:41:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15544818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bagell/pseuds/Bagell
Summary: He took the lead step. Every dance, be it a waltz, foxtrot, whatever other steps he was required to learn to uphold his family’s reputation, he always took the lead step.He had always wondered, what would it be like to place his hands in a partner’s and let them take the lead. Let himself be spun and dipped under dim lighting, to laugh genuinely and enjoy himself just a bit while gliding around wide floors.The fantasy was dismissed quickly every time it seeped into his head.-Now? Now, with Magnus, tangled in each other’s arms, the thoughts still bare their full emotion but in a way that isn’t so agonizing to mull over, because now the reason he doesn’t have to play with the thoughts in his head is right in front of him, surrounding him, looking up at him with unabashed love in his gaze.





	How Alec Feels About Dancing

**Author's Note:**

> Basically my response to everyone's headcanon that Alec can't dance. I adore that headcanon, but I've had this one in my head for quite some time, and when Luke mentioned the Accords Ball, I had to write it.

Alec Lightwood has never liked dancing.

It was only a reminder that he couldn’t have what he wouldn’t let himself want.

He learned it at a young age. The Clave held balls and dances in Idris, events that all of Alicante’s most prestigious families had to attend. Another one of his  _ responsibilities _ as a Lightwood.

The routine was the same for each one. Talk to the parents of other children like him,  _ training is going wonderfully, yes, one day I’m sure I’ll succeed father, no, I did not finish that segment yet but it will be completed soon, _ make small talk, eat to look like he was enjoying himself, even though he had eaten before so he wouldn’t be embarrassing, more mindless small-talk,  _ no, I haven’t met your daughter yet, oh, really that’s rather impressive, _ dance with the aforementioned daughter.

He took the lead step. Every dance, be it a waltz, foxtrot, whatever other steps he was required to learn to uphold his family’s reputation, he always took the lead step.

He had always wondered, what would it be like to place his hands in a partner’s and let them take the lead. Let himself be spun and dipped under dim lighting, to laugh genuinely and enjoy himself just a bit while gliding around wide floors.

The fantasy was dismissed quickly every time it seeped into his head.

The first time Alec danced outside of practice, outside of one of the Clave’s stupid balls, it had been in the training room at the Institute.

He had been attacking a punching bag, for a reason he couldn’t remember other than the fact that it had to have been about some new responsibility, new duty, new lecture, new  _ something _ from his parents or the Clave. He needed to release his nerves and frustrations somehow, and exerting them through force on an inanimate object was his go-to method.

Except this time it wasn’t working. He was only growing more and more frustrated at what he had to do, what he was born to do.

And he remembered that when Jace was upset he played the piano.

Alec’s eyes were squeezed shut tightly, and slowly, a melody filled his head, notes cramming in until he couldn’t think of anything but the imagined music. He reached out, found the anatomy of a phantom partner, and stepped.

He didn’t dare dance the following step. That’s not what this was for.

It became a routine of sorts. He’d let music take over his mind, sometimes imagined, and sometimes Jace was there a few rooms away, playing the piano, and he’d dance until his frustrations were forgotten.

That’s what he liked to think.

They were never forgotten, just repressed like all of his wants and desires.

He danced to remind himself that he was okay with his life. That he was okay with marrying a woman, that he was okay with having children with her, that he was okay with having a home to go at the end of the day but not a home to love all through the day.

He danced to remember that this was his life, set from the beginning and that it’s what he wanted.

And the idea settled in his head until he inevitably had to dance again.

When he started doing this, the events became easier. He had forced himself to accept the watchful eye of his parents and his partner’s parents, and that along with the fake pleasantry, chatter, and standard talk of desires for marriage and children became routine. He would go through the motions, not really think about it, spin his partner if the song called for it, be as charming as his facade would allow, and not once would his mind wander.

Routine is something Alec knew well. It was easier.

Alec tried the following step once. One time, completely innocently. He was curious, and the pressures were less that day, he thought he could try without it meaning anything.

He still set strict guidelines for himself before doing it. The phantom partner would still be the picture of a Clave girl, strong, pretty, confident, and undeniably female. He would only attempt the step. Dip his toes in. He would only dance a few minutes. And he would never, not once throughout the dance, let his mind wander past his movements and his duties.

And for the first time, he glided. He forgot the rules he had hammered into himself just minutes before, and all the movements came so naturally. Hours passed and he didn’t notice, he didn’t pay mind to anything other than the delight and adrenaline coursing through him.

When his partner became a man somewhere in those hours, he didn’t realize.

Only when the final rule was broken, only when his mind went to how free he felt, did reality crash down on him.

It’s not that Alec never let himself dance anything other than the lead because he didn’t want to dance a female part. It’s not that he thought someone with desires like him had to be submissive, because he knew he was not submissive.

He never let himself because even the idea of being anything other than the perfect Clave boy, a leader who was strong, merciless, straight, sounded so good it terrified him.

And this one time he let himself try to be something else.

It was far too easy, and he never let himself do it again.

After that day, Clave events rushed back to how they used to be, uncomfortable like an incorrect mold, and suddenly all of the  _ routine _ seemed suffocating, claustrophobic.

In fact, it was worse than before, because now he couldn’t bring himself to beat the thoughts of happiness and desires out of his head, and the forced smile became just a bit real when he accidently imagined the girl in front of him with a stronger jaw and squarer hips. At the realization he had shuddered and excused himself. He didn’t break down, he sucked in a breath and squeezed, forcing the tears and the sobs back. He took the lecture from his parents with shoulders thrust back and chest out, face schooled into neutrality.

He still danced. Back to always leading the phantom partner, who had a giggle as fake as it was feminine. He kept dancing to pretend his routine still worked, pretend he could still make himself like his life.

It never worked anymore, but he wouldn’t let his mind go there.

 

So it should be no surprise that Alec hadn’t thought about dancing even once after he kissed Magnus, grabbed him by the lapels and finally, finally let him do something for himself.

Dancing hadn’t crossed his mind even once after Magnus kissed back, chasing his lips and putting just as much passion into the pushing and pulling of their mouths in motion against each other.

 

And months and months later, when Magnus pulls him into familiar embrace, swaying together with the music thrumming softly through their loft, and the memories come crashing back, every thought Alec wouldn’t allow bursting through his head in full and complete clarity Alec realizes that he never successfully pushed those thoughts away. He pretended, always pretended but they were there and they had killed him.

Now? Now, with Magnus, tangled in each other’s arms, the thoughts still bare their full emotion but in a way that isn’t so agonizing to mull over, because now the reason he doesn’t have to play with the thoughts in his head is right in front of him, surrounding him, looking up at him with unabashed love in his gaze. 

Coming out of his thoughts, Alec notices the concern laced in Magnus’s expression and smiles. With the shift in his cheeks he feels the tear tracks that have made their way down and he laughs. Magnus just looks confused now and Alec moves their arms so he clutches Magnus’ hands in his own, gentle but so strong and so sure as he sweeps his arms out and spins Magnus.

A delighted and surprised sound jumps out of Magnus, and he clumsily sweeps his hand, blue wisps of gorgeous enchantment clearing the furniture around them. He settles his footing after the one false step and clasps Alec’s hands tighter, pulling them closer together so their foreheads rest together. Alec brings his hand up, up to rest behind Magnus’ neck and he feels Magnus’ arm wrap around the small of his back. 

They shift, so easily and Magnus is now in the lead, Alec letting out a breathy almost-laugh that’s so happy, his eyes closed. He doesn’t care that this feels awkward, that technically it’d feel less chunky if they switched positions due to their height, because now he isn’t torturing himself over the fact that it’s easy, he’s living in this moment and he’s adoring every second of it.

Then his mind shifts too, and it goes from him thinking about how lucky he is to be with someone he loves to how lucky he is to be with  _ Magnus _ because he will never be able to fathom Magnus Bane and all that he is in this world. That he’s lucky enough to have Magnus be in love with him, that he’s lucky enough to be in love with Magnus. How lucky they are that they can be in love with each other. And he knows Magnus can feel his thoughts going that way, sees in the shine in his golden eyes that Magnus’ have moved in the same direction. It’s just wave after wave of affection, gratitude, and undeniable love. 

And now they’re kissing, lips moving in time with their steps and everything is so, so,  _ good _ .

And later when Magnus asks about it, Alec shares every thought, every step, every dance, every note, every fake conversation, every accidentally genuine smile, everything with him and it’s certainly not effortless but now it’s weightless.

But now, in their living room, music having died eons ago, where they spin and they laugh and they sweep across the floor together, limbs stretching and searching, testing each other on what they know, loving each other, there’s just love, and there’s just happiness.

**Author's Note:**

> I've been putting off writing this for ages, but with all of Todd's tweets today on the Malec dance and training scene, Amanda O'Leary's post about Harry, and just the onslaught of emotions today, I had to write and get it out of my system. Tomorrow will be so tough, but we can't give up, we won't give up. #SaveShadowhunters :)
> 
> also i'm [@downworldbagell](https://twitter.com/downworldbagell) on Twitter if ya wanna say hi <3


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